Breaking the Fall
by PcKtmouse
Summary: After two weeks of hard work Jim just wanted a small thrill and to prove himself along the way. But dangling in the shrouds one hundred feet above deck he would settle for a helping hand.
1. Jim

I read a book several years ago about a sailor who had to prove themselves by climbing the shrouds and the memory of that inspired this story. I basically did an internet search of ship diagrams, so if any experienced sailors out there find inaccuracies then I'm sorry. :p I uploaded this seperate from my other story Trifles because it is getting bogged down with Jim and Silver one-shots.

Characters (c) Disney, plot (c) The True Confessions of Charlotte Doyle

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><p>"I'm telling ya for te last time, lad. <em>No<em>. Now stop yer bellyachin'", Silver growled, picking up a tuber from a nearby basket and expertly peeling the root. His pet Morph caught the spiraled skin and whirled it around like a ribbon. "An' keep workin' on t'em tubers."

Jim moaned irritably from his spot on the floor. "I'm bored", he snapped, "I wanna get out and do something! Why can't I go up in the shrouds like the others?"

"Ye haven't worked enough ta get up t'ere. For now ye'll stay 'ere where I can keep an eye on ya."

The young boy scowled down at the partially naked tuber in his hand and angrily attacked it with a peeler. He couldn't understand how two weeks of hard labor hadn't earned him the right to climb up into the shrouds, even once. "Just because you're too fat to get up there…"

"Wa'd ya say?" Silver barked in a tone that suggested he had heard Jim clearly.

"I said we're out of tubers." Jim purred sweetly as he finished his and casually tossed it up to the cyborg. Silver caught the tuber easily and a smirk crossed his face as he looked from Jim to the empty basket. "Well t'en, ye can walk off yer jitters by gettin' us some more from the hold. Double time!"

Jim sighed heavily and pulled the basket up as he stood. "And don' let me catch ya loafin' around." He called as the boy sullenly clambered his way up the steps.

The morning air was a refreshing change from the stale galley. As the wind tickled Jim's hair he was immediately reminded of his solar surfer back home; how he used to cut through the clouds and fall into the sky. It was a sensation that he desperately missed after having his feet on the deck for two weeks.

A sharp chirp interrupted his thoughts as Morph flew up from the galley. "Did Silver send you up to spy on me?" Jim teased as he caught the small creature and rubbed his belly.

"Spy! Spy! Spy!" Morph replied and rolled in Jim's hand. The boy laughed and stared longingly up at the tall masts and the crows nest sitting at the very top. What he wouldn't give…

"Jealoussss, cabin boy?"

Jim's smile dropped as a jagged shadow fell over him and Scroop's breath assaulted the back of his neck; he jumped forward and spun around to see the Manticore's bright eyes glaring down at him. "Or are ye ssscared of climbing up?"

Morph gurgled and crept behind Jim's shoulder but the boy didn't flinch away from the intimidating figure. "I'm not scared." He growled. "I've been higher than that before."

"Oh, it'sss not the climb ye sssshould be worried about." The young man brought himself up to his full height as the alien began to slowly circle him. "It'ssss the fall." Scroop hissed. "One misssstake and ye have over a hundred feet to think about it before…" The arachnid slammed one claw against the deck with a sharp _**thwack**_ and it took every ounce of Jim's restraint not to jump.

"I guess that explains what happened to you." Jim shot, but the alien wasn't fazed by his sarcasm.

"Run yer mouth all ye want. But I'm not the only one to notice ye can't even make it to the lower sssssail."

Jim's anger boiled over and he spun to face Scroop. "I _can_!" He snarled.

His enemy's fanged mouth twisted into a thin smile and his bright yellow eyes narrowed down at him. "_Prove it_."

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><p>Despite Jim's earlier glorification of the shrouds they looked much more intimidating now that he was standing at the base, one hand griping the rat lines in anticipation. Scroop had led him there after his bold claim and had cleared the way for Jim's ascent; he now stood some feet away and watched coolly as the boy sized up the challenge. "Anytime." He hissed.<p>

With a deep breath and a sharp glare Jim began. The lines were several inches apart and the boy had to stretch each limb to reach them as he crept up the ropes. Already Jim could feel a shift in the atmosphere; the wind was cooler and the air had a sweet tint to it. He breathed it in and grinned. Of course Scroop would not give a damn if he made it back to the ground, but the excitement gave Jim the adrenaline rush that he so desired. It was this adrenaline that drove Jim up several more feet – until the boy stopped dead in shock.

Like most ships, the Legacy had sets of shrouds. Instead of leading him to one that connected directly to the top of the main mast, Scroop had put the boy on a set that stopped at the lower sail. He would have to lean around the thick mast and make a wild reach over empty space to get to the next set!

Cursing himself, Jim braced himself against the mast with his left hand and leaned out for the nearest rat line. It was a good eight inches away.

'_Dammit_!' But he couldn't go back and start over. Scroop was still leering up at him and a small crowd consisting of the rest of the crew had joined him – any reluctance and they would see it as weakness. The boy bit his lip and without giving himself time to worry, fell forward.

His short fall abruptly ended as his hands shot out and grabbed anything he could reach. Jim's legs instinctively wrapped securely around the lines as he swung forward and his body slammed into the wall of rope. He could hear the laughter of the crew float up to him, but he didn't care. He could do this.

By the time Jim climbed his way to the upper topsail his arms were shaking with exhaustion; his fingers clammy and numb. He was not afraid but he was growing more and more exhausted with each step. Solar surfing required heavy use of his muscles; however, the body of the surfer provided him a solid platform on which to rest. In the shrouds there was no such luxury. The lines were constantly swaying and jerking under his movements, the wind that had felt so kind was now pushing against Jim as though it too were aligned with Scroop. Again, he had to leap for the rigging connected to the topgallant - he still had two sets to go!

After several minutes the young main finally reached the final set of shrouds, the one that would take him to the crows nest at the bottom of the main royal yard. Jim had never been more miserable in his life. His once sore arms were filled with burning fire and even his toned legs had lost their stability long ago. The palms of his hands were bleeding from the rough rope and his sweat made the cuts sting harshly. He was beginning to wish he had listened to the cyborg in the galley so far below him.

It felt like hours passed before Jim felt the reassuring feel of splintered lumber at his fingertips as he shakily pulled himself over the rim of the crows nest and slumped to the bottom. His breath came in short gasps and he momentarily allowed himself to forget that he had to now work his way down.

The boy lay in the shelter of the crows nest for an eternity before forcing himself to his feet. Although he could now take the shrouds that led directly to the deck as soon as his foot touched the rat line he knew that descending would be a hundred times more difficult than climbing. Moving up the shrouds he could see the placement of the rat lines and move accordingly, but now he was blind and had to either test each step or risk looking down. His stomach lurched at this last option and he quickly decided to go with the former.

Inch by inch Jim worked his way down the shrouds. His mind was hazy and his muscles more watery than the ocean as he passed sail after sail; his sole thought was on reaching the deck. It was no less than a miracle when he passed the lower topsail.

And it was here that he fell.

As Jim moved to lower himself the rat line supporting his feet suddenly shifted and the boy lurched as he slipped easily through the large hole. A hoarse cry escaped him and he twisted his body, desperately grabbing for the ropes. Once more he hit the shrouds face first as his weak hands grabbed a rat line five feet from where he had fell. Now the boy hung on the backside of the shrouds and the severity of his situation finally hit him like a brick. He was sore. He was exhausted and weak. It would have taken all of his strength to make it down to the deck normally and now he had to without the support of the shrouds and fighting gravity all the way. Jim moaned and wearily continued.

Each passing second was a nightmare. Jim's body was ready to shut down and if he made one more mistake with his footing it would be his last. Breaking his resolve the boy glanced down – he was only twelve feet away! But as he stared at the deck his vision swam and Jim knew that he was finished.

His hold on the rat lines weakened and for a split second the boy floated in air before gravity grabbed him and he fell to the deck below.

Jim's lungs were expelled in a single gasp as he landed, but he knew instantly that he had not hit the unforgiving deck. Confused, he opened his eyes and a deep, red light showered over him as John Silver held him in his outstretched arms.

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><p>"I told ya ye haven't worked enough ta climb te shrouds!" Silver lectured as he none too gently slapped down a bag of ice on each of Jim's arms. The boy hissed and writhed against the table but didn't complain; after what he had been through the once cramped galley was now a sanctuary. "Yer soggy muscles weren't near ready for t'at sort of work! If Morphy hadn't of scurried down 'ere and warned me - "<p>

"I'm sorry." The teen repeated for the eighth time, laying his head between his arms. "I didn't know it was going to be such a pain, okay? I won't do it again." The words tasted bitter on his tongue.

The older man sighed as he sat next to Jim, rubbing his organic arm and the boy knew that catching him as Silver did must have hurt like Hell. "I don't like bein' cooped up down 'ere anymore than ya do, lad." He admitted. "Ye'll get up t'ere again before everyt'ing's done, but ye'll wait till I t'ink yer ready and not a second sooner."

The young man nodded obediently. "Alright. And thanks for…"

"Catchin' ya like a baby Mantabird?" Silver offered with a grin.

"That." Jim finished and the cyborg laughed and lightly patted his friend's aching shoulder.

"Now Jimbo, ye know I would never jus' let ya fall." Jim smiled at the reassuring words made even more wonderful because he knew that it was the truth. The bruise across his back in the shape of Silver's arm was proof of that. "Rest up fer now." Silver continued. "Cause come tonight ye'll 'ave a slew of chores ta do t'at will get yer muscles in the right shape for the shrouds. And ya can start by goin' and getting' t'em damn tubers!"


	2. Silver

Silverwolf407 asked for the story from Silver's point of view and I couldn't resist writing about my fav character. :p

Disney (c) everything

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><p>Silver rubbed his pounding head before dipping his large hand back into the tuber basket. Peeling the little tubers was a tedious task in itself but Jim's constant whining made it that much more unbearable. "I'm telling ya for te last time, lad. <em>No<em>. Now stop yer bellyachin' an' keep workin' on t'em tubers."

He heard an annoyed sound from behind him and glanced over at the young man as he massacred a perfectly good root. "I'm bored! I wanna get out and do something! Why can't I go up in the shrouds like the others?"

"Ye haven't worked enough ta get up t'ere." The man explained dryly. "For now ye'll stay 'ere where I can keep an eye on ya." Judging by Jim's harsh snort he was not pleased with Silver's decree. The cyborg continued with his chore until, "Just because you're too fat to get up there…"

"Wa'd ya say?"

His cabin boy flashed an innocent smile that didn't reach his mischievous eyes and he pitched the bare root up to Silver's waiting hand. "I said we're out of tubers." Silver nodded slowly; if the boy wanted a chore the cook would happily provide him one.

"Well t'en, ye can walk off yer jitters by gettin' us some more from the hold. Double time!" He grinned at the heavy sound that hissed out of the disappointed Jim, but he obediently stood and, dragging the basket behind him, stomped up the steps. "And don' let me catch ya loafin' around." Silver warned.

As soon as Jim was out on the open deck the cyborg sighed and shook his head. He hated being the warden to Jim's cell and would like nothing more than to let him out and burn off his pent up energy. But the Captain had made it perfectly clear that Silver would be accountable for any of the boy's antics, forcing the cook to either keep Jim under figurative lock and key or under constant surveillance. Speaking of which…

"Morpy!" Silver whistled and his small companion trilled and rolled onto his broad shoulder. "Why don't ya do me a favor an' go keep an eye on Jimbo?" He pulled Morph's favorite cracker out of his pocket and offered it to the delighted creature as a bribe. Morph devoured the treat, licked his stubbled cheek and flew off after Jim's disappearing figure.

Alone in the galley with his thoughts and his food the cyborg continued with his trade, dicing the peeled tubers with an expert ease. He paused momentarily to examine Jim's substantial pile, whistling merrily and holding a peeled tuber between two large fingers. The lad was proving to be a surprisingly helpful cabin boy and the Ursid was beginning to think that he was not as hopeless as he had first thought. He was even starting to warm up to the boy, despite his annoyingly frequent habit of challenging Silver with every breath, and to his own surprise he found the young man's company…pleasant. The cyborg certainly would have never tolerated any of his crew calling him fat; just thinking of the snarky comment made Silver chuckle and shake his head.

Several minutes passed but Jim's footsteps didn't resound from the galley steps. The old pirate wiped his hands on the tattered apron around his waist and glanced, irritated, at the small stairs. He had warned the boy after the first time he ran off on their third day that the next time Silver would drag him back by his rat-tail and it seemed like he would have to live up to his word.

A loud chirp announced the sudden arrival of Morph and Silver grinned with relief as his small pet flew around him. "Ah, Morphy! Is our boy stayin' out of trouble?" He asked playfully, but the look of fright on the creature's face and his quick babbling doused the cyborg's enthusiasm. "W'at is it, Morph?"

"Trouble trouble trouble!" His friend squealed and pulled on the collar of his coat.

At his friends frantic insisting Silver followed him up the steps and onto the open deck. However, a quick sweep of the area produced no sight of the boy. "Where'd ya leave 'im?"

Morph yelped and flew straight up into the sails; Silver's gaze followed past the lower topsail and…

"_Jimbo!"_

The boy was hanging, unmoving in the shrouds of the upper topsail. Silver blinked once, twice, but each time the vision before him failed to dissipate the more his blood boiled like burning soup. Figurative lock and key be damned - he was going to build a door for the galley, throw the boy inside and lock it with a _very_ real key.

Silver heard a burst of laughter from the left and looked to see a small band of his crew assembled around the base of the shrouds – the most prominent of them being the gaunt Scroop. He snarled and stalked over to the group, feeling a rush of satisfaction as they fell silent and gazed warily at his intimidating form. "I don' suppose anyone knows about _t'is_." He growled, jerking his thumb in Jim's direction.

The tall spider was the only one to match his glare, the amused guilt shining through his leer. "The boy wanted a challenge."

"An' ye were all too happy to put 'em on t'ose shrouds."

Scroop shrugged, uninterested. "He'ssss not _our_ ressssponsssibility."

Silver recognized the subtle insult and decided to remind the bug of his proper place. "We're closer ta gettin' ta Flint's Trove t'en we've ever been and ye'd put our entire operation in danger just ta get yer kicks harassin' a cabin boy?" The large man leaned back and crossed his arms as his displeased shipmates turned on the Manticore, unhappy with the slightest idea of losing their treasure. "T'at's exactly w'at's gonna happen if he falls! Ye'd best pray t'at he gets up and back down without harm."

"He already made it up!" Squawked Bird Brain Mary from her spot on the railing. "He's comin' down now! Surprised, Silver turned back and focused his clicking mechanical eye on Jim's thin figure; just like she had said, the boy was not moving up as he had first thought – he was slowly making his way down. It did little to sooth the cyborg's anger; it just meant he had less time than he thought to make the door.

He tore his gaze away from the shrouds and back to the crew. "Ye've all had yer fun, now get back to work before – "

A desperate cry cut him short and all eyes jumped to the shrouds as…

Falling. Jim was falling; he was falling, falling, falling a fall he would not survive, falling and Silver would never make it to him in time, and…

And it stopped; the nightmare didn't play out. Jim was clinging in relative safety to the back of the shrouds, not sprawled out motionless across the deck. After several seconds of deep gasps the pirate looked back to his crew; every face was locked onto Jim except for one that had seen the fear circulating through Silver's body. He glared back at the uncaring golden eyes. "_Get. Back. To. Work._" No one argued and one by one they slunk away, except for Scroop, who stared accusingly at his captain before finally joining his shipmates.

With the threat extinguished and his heart rate under control the pirate again fixated on his cabin boy. Jim's exhaustion was evident from his lurching movements and despite Silver's anger he was amazed that such a greenhorn could accomplish this amazing feat. Suddenly the boy stopped, looked to the deck and began to shake violently. This time Silver was ready. He didn't panic, or freeze, but with a calm gait placed himself underneath the boy and opened his arms as Jim fell into him.

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><p>It was amazing how quickly Silver's wrath faded the moment he got the trembling, drained Jim into the safety of the galley. He looked over at the young man, sitting miserably at the table, a convict thrown back into his prison, as Silver piled fistfuls of ice into thin cloth bags. "I told ya ye haven't worked enough ta climb te shrouds!" The bags found their marks on Jim's arms and though the boy uttered a sound of discomfort he didn't complain. "Yer soggy muscles weren't near ready for t'at sort of work! If Morphy hadn't of scurried down 'ere and warned me - "<p>

The image of Jim laying limp across the deck flashed in his mind but Silver's hesitation was masked by the teen's voice. "I'm sorry. I didn't know it was going to be such a pain, okay? I won't do it again."

Again Silver felt the warden's burden on his shoulders and he sighed as he buckled under the pressure. "I don't like bein' cooped up down 'ere anymore than ya do, lad." He felt vaguely surprised when he realized it was the truth and that he would like nothing more than to be on deck with Jim, coaching him and cheering him on through the shrouds. "Ye'll get up t'ere again before everyt'ing's done, but ye'll wait till I t'ink yer ready and not a second sooner."

"Alright." The boy agreed, sounding both relieved and terrified of the idea of repeating the challenge. "And thanks for…"

"Catchin' ya like a baby Mantabird?" Silver laughed at the humiliation written on Jim's face. "That."

He gently clapped the boy's shoulder and pushed himself up in the same motion. "Now Jimbo, ye know I would never jus' let ya fall. Rest up fer now, cause come tonight ye'll 'ave a slew of chores ta do t'at will get yer muscles in the right shape for the shrouds. And ya can start by goin' and getting' t'em damn tubers!"


End file.
